Cowardice
by Nature.Calls
Summary: Draco's time is finally up and the deranged Harry Potter finally pays him a long awaited visit. How will Draco worm himself out of this situation? Harry/Draco


**Disclaimer:** I totally don't own Harry Potter. A shocker, I know.

The original idea for this little work of fiction goes to my buddy** davros fan**. Without him I wouldn't have even imagined something like this. I only take his ideas and string it into a story.

This is my first Harry Potter slash story. Yes, slash. That is your warning.

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><p><em>You won't escape me." The smile of his rival was cold, cruel and calculating. Oddly, it was like looking into a mirror until he hit those maddening green eyes. Sanity had drained out of them so long ago and it looked as if it wasn't coming back. <em>

"_Back away." Draco warned the intruder, trying to keep his tall posture to show the great Harry Potter he wasn't afraid of him. _

"_Not a chance Malfoy. I'm coming for you. I can't wait to feel your heart stop beating." With a twisted smile Harry bounded forward, jabbing the nearest tool he could find into the blonde's chest. _

Draco startled himself awake, his chest heaving as a cold sweat broke over him. The girl to his left stirred at his movement but otherwise remained fast asleep. Her twin sister to his right though did not and rubbed her palm over Draco's chest, peering at him with concern.

"Are you okay, Draco?" Her voice was sweet now that it was laced with sleep. Earlier in the night it was low with the needs and desires a woman never made public.

"Fine." He replied curtly, lying back down and letting her snuggle back into him. It was another hour before Draco drifted back to sleep, the haunting image of a crazed Potter burning bright in the forefront of his mind.

That night on the balcony overlooking the grounds behind Malfoy Manor Draco stared into the blackness hoping the serene, silent scene would bring him ease. It didn't. And the witch noisily joining him didn't ease any feelings either.

"Lila." He acknowledged, not turning his eyes from the pine he had set his gaze to.

"Draco, I've missed your owls recently. We do need to get together again soon." Her voice was a lower key than the twins he had in his bed the previous night. The lower, rich tone fitted Lila so well though, that Draco didn't mind all that much. Besides, she was too useful in her knowledge of the Dark Arts to be outcast for a detail such as that. Had it been anyone else though, their ass would have been out the door in less than five seconds. Draco shrugged and smirked at his priorities. Sometimes skill did trump the looks, though the occasion didn't happen often. When he never answered Lila's proposal she stalked closer to him, her high heels clacking loudly on the white stone floor. She snaked her arms around his waist, melding her scantily clad body against his own naked torso. The crafty witch eyed her own handy work covering Draco's bare back.

Almost every inch was covered in protective wards, black ink scribbling its way around his taught back, up over his built, broad shoulders, and without looking she knew they covered his front, from very stout chest to the built planes of his stomach. Though they did not add to his attractive nature, they did not necessarily take away from it either. Paranoia at the end of the day was paranoia and did not sway Lila's opinion of the man in either direction.

A bright red light shot up in the distance, exploding to reveal multiple phoenixes, which as soon as they separated from the one burst of light began to fight and devour each other. Lila felt Draco stiffen before letting out a string of nasty curses.

Turning around, Draco walked into the house, completely ignoring the dark priestess the witch had almost become. She wasn't worth his actual time and effort to build a further relationship than security and the occasional filler in a very lonesome night.

Downstairs already waiting in the foyer was Crabbe and Goyle, who after the years at Hogwarts bulked up like Draco. With mass war and being at the top of your enemy's shit list all the time brought on a certain sense of importance. There was one enemy in particular that Draco had been waiting on, counting on, to show up tonight.

The great Chosen One was hunting him down. From deranged owls he'd received, he made out through the blotted, scrawled red ink; he was last on Harry's list. Furthering the act of killing Draco, he continued, going on about how he had saved Draco for last because of the hatred that ran so deep between them. Harry had to kill off his loved ones first. Hatred was something he wanted to deal with last. Draco crumbled the letter and threw it in the fire before disapperating to Lila's place to make her carve more wards into his back and upper arms.

Minutes later Draco found himself, staring intently at the doorway, waiting for the fallen Harry Potter to break down the doors and to try and finish the game of madness he had started.

No one really understood why Harry snapped, but people could only assume it was because of the amount of pressure building up after the war against the Dark Lord finally collapsed on top of him. There was really no preparation for the news the wizarding world received when they found out Harry had stabbed Ginny Weasely with her own wand before moving on to their children, using different spells before finally ending their suffering.

His best friends followed his wife and children and their families followed them. It was a cycle of mass murders of whoever had been close to him at any point in time. Professors from Hogwarts had lost their lives and old schooling friends weren't far behind. The great Harry Potter had finally gone off the deep end and no one could stop him.

A thud from at least ten feet outside the massive front doors brought Draco back to an acute, alerted state. He motioned for Crabbed and Goyle to move in on the mad fiend about to break into his home and without being asked Lila joined the two giant goons. As soon as they made it out the front door Draco backed away in fear to the kitchen, cursing himself for leaving his wand upstairs. He pulled a clean, shining kitchen knife out of the oak block sitting on one of the counters and stared at the entrance way, waiting for someone to pounce through the archway.

From the other room Draco heard a loud blasting and a crash followed, so he could only assume the door had been blown off its hinges and a ball of dread coiled tightly in the bottom of Draco's stomach.

"Draco, long time no see, _friend_." The smile lighting Harry's face was more deranged than his aunt Bellatrix's ever could have been, may her soul rest in whatever peace a woman like that may find. Seeing it in person only made that ball coil tighter and Draco had to try and hide the grimace that wanted to spread onto his face. He had imagined the facial expression a lunatic like Harry would make, and all of his expectations had fallen short of what Potter was giving him now. He looked so much more different than Draco had imagined. Harry was slightly taller than when the two had seen each other last during the final battle on Hogwarts and he looked like skin and bones underneath a ragged shirt. It wasn't the same type of figure Draco had put together, because this skinny, small Potter had such a grace about him that shouldn't come with several years of mass murdering. He imagined the green eyes before him to have bags underneath, but to the blonde's surprise his face seemed in rather beautiful condition, except for blood splatters here and there.

Draco's cold gray eyes darted around Potter's form, hoping that one of his "friends" would come rushing through that door, shouting the killing curse and ridding the only Malfoy alive of a huge problem. That wasn't the case though and Harry let out a deranged cackle because he knew exactly what Draco was thinking.

"Don't expect help Malfoy. There won't be any coming for you. Your little pals decided to stick around and fight. Tsk, tsk, tsk. I love it when they run and try to escape instead." Potter frowned, looking at the floor as if grief had suddenly washed over him. The moment passed though and his green gaze shot back up to Malfoy's face, eyes glittering in cruel delight at his enemy gauging his chances. "I think it's time you put the knife down now Draco. What good is it going to do you?" Harry raised his wooden weapon and he bared all teeth in a giddy grin that matched the fabled Cheshire Cat Draco had heard about once or twice in stories from his mother long ago.

Life was fleeting. The Malfoy linage was about to cease to exist and Draco could only hear his heart pounding in his chest. Could Harry hear it too? Fear flashed in Draco's eyes before he decided he needed something to stop all this madness.

"Wait!" Harry visibly jumped at the sound of Draco's voice and after the astonishment wore off he frowned at his victim, puzzled by the sudden halt to his massacre.

"What's wrong with you? Can't you see I'm busy?" Draco tried not to frown at Harry's words. They honestly didn't make sense to him, but you couldn't go around expecting a madman to say sane things now could you?

"Don't kill me just yet." Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Draco beat him to the punch. If this was going to work he had to keep the steam going. "Not before I get the chance to enjoy a night of what I've always wanted." The knife in Draco's hand clattered to the floor where he toed it away and he started shifting towards the man with the raised wand.

All of this alarmed Harry, because he was expecting his enemy to be begging for his sad, little, pathetic life at this point. Instead, he was sauntering over to him, all hips and muscled upper body glinting in the light of the hearth on the far side of the kitchen.

"Stay back Draco." For the first time uncertainty sprung up in Harry's voice as he hunched down some, but then as if he realized that he was the one with the wand, shot back up, spine full attention. Draco stopped as the wand hit throat level. He didn't want to take his chances, but the little escapade showed how unstable Potter was at the moment.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"Once a liar and a coward always a liar and a coward." Harry snorted. Draco shrugged palms up towards the sky.

"If you say so, but what I say is true. I have no intentions of hurting you. I just want to touch you." Harry's green eyes grew wide and the madness inside twisted into wonder and lust.

"Liar." He repeated, voice hissing as if he was about to start speaking in Parseltongue.

"Let me show you." Draco held out his hand, palm up, waiting for Harry to take it. He hoped he would take it. When all Harry did was stare at him through narrowed green eyes Draco wanted to take his hand back, somewhat contemplating the thought of Harry reaching out and stabbing his hand. Determination to get out of this situation alive though kept Draco's hand immobile, still waiting for The Bloodline Killer to accept.

"Fine." Harry finally agreed, hand clasping Draco's pulling the bulkier of the two close to his lanky body. Wand already pressed against Draco's throat, threat oozing out of his mouth like a fine wine. "Make any movements though and I will not hesitate to end your pathetic life."

"Of course." Draco moved around the wand to cup Harry's face in one of his hands, the other slowly gliding back and forth over his hip. The wand fell slightly as Harry leaned into Draco, letting their lips brush together lightly. The few moments of small, feather-light kisses gave Draco the confidence to move forward with his plan and he pressed his lips harder to Harry's, hand moving to grip his jet black hair. The blonde didn't expect the fist from the other man to connect with his face and he was sprawled on his tile floor, staring up with wide eyes at the Bloodline Killer, a wand dangerously close to his face.

"Keep it slow Draco. If anyone's in control, then it's me." The hardened face softened a fracture as Harry whispered, "Don't make me kill you." Draco swallowed the lump hardening in his throat and nodded at the famous serial killer's words. Shakily his stood up, using the oven door handle as support. "Come here." The soft, loving tone in Harry's voice was gone and it was replaced with that stone-cold demanding voice he had arrived at the manor with. Draco complied, not wanting to find out if Harry would stick to his word about killing him, which Draco was more than half sure he would.

The great Harry Potter didn't get the nickname "The Bloodline Killer" for no reason. He assumed that nickname after he had already wiped out three of the most prominent bloodlines in the wizarding world. That's when the nickname first popped up. He then went with it and once he killed a victim he always made sure to finish off their family. Draco's parents had been murdered last year and from there on out it had been a game of cat and mouse between the former school-boy rivals.

The two men resumed kissing and Harry shoved Draco up against the counter, letting his lips take attention of Draco's skin elsewhere. Draco couldn't help but moan at the attention. It had been a long time since he allowed anyone to take control of a sexual situation, let alone another man.

Draco wouldn't place himself in any sexual categories. He usually preferred women because they were easy conquests, but he wasn't above sleeping with a man if it meant he could get a favour in return.

"Let's move this upstairs." Draco groaned, hands gripping Harry's waist tightly.

"Sure thing." Harry agreed, neither hesitation nor an ounce of batshit crazy present in his throaty voice. Lust had gotten the better of him for the moment.

Somehow the tangled mass of men made it up the grand marble staircase and Harry slammed Draco up against the wall, lips and teeth seeking exposed skin in a heated flash.

"I-oh damn-I thought you-ngh-wanted to take it slow." Draco panted out in between moans, hands banging against the wall, fingers grasping at something to hold on to.

"Can't. Want to. Can't." Harry's sentences were very clipped, him not wanting to break contact from Draco long enough to give an actual explanation. Harry didn't even think he could make a coherent statement with the lust overpowering his entire system. Eventually the two made their way into the nearest bedroom, whether it was Draco's or not didn't seem to matter at this point. He had the house to himself anyways, because of the man he found himself pinned underneath.

The mattress was soft on Draco's back compared to the previous objects he found himself pressed against. Harry's shirt was off, the scent of dirt and old, dried blood marking its territory in Draco's nose as it drifted past his face and found its home crumpled on the floor. Potter was much lankier than Draco had originally taken him for, but somehow it wasn't a bad thing. There was nothing buff about The Boy-Who-Lived. There never really was, even back in their schooling days. All of his body screamed feminine, but the look in his eyes contradicted that. Those piercing, no, Draco decided. Those haunting green orbs shone with dominance. A trait that was all male.

His hands matched the rest of his body. Long, pale, lanky fingers ran over Draco's ribs and for a moment they almost seem to hesitate. This in turn made Draco ask,

"Harry, have you done this before?"

"Not with a man."

"That's what I meant."

"Shut up." He hissed, cheeks slightly turning pink. Draco's burnt out eyes widened a fraction. Did The Bloodline Killer just blush at being a virgin with another man? When's Harry cheeks preceded to only grow a deeper hue of red Draco answered his own question.

Yes, yes he did.

"You want me to take control?" Draco's voice was soft, because at some point he felt sorry for the other guy. He had once been in his position. It was a shitty one, that only made you feel worse if you had absolutely no clue what you were doing. And Draco didn't. And now Harry didn't.

"No." All doubt and embarrassment left Harry like a body flashing through Platform 9 ¾ and Draco felt a hand around his throat, squeezing. "I'm in control." Draco nodded profusely, hands tightening in the sheets, because he didn't want to make a move against Harry. "Good." After Draco could breathe and talk without straining to get the words out of his windpipe he asked,

"You want me to help guide you?" Again, it was as if someone had flipped a switch on Harry because his eyes softened with slight embarrassment and a tiny nod shot through his neck. Draco started giving him instructions, telling him to take off each of their pants, for which earned a snappish, cold remark from Harry, reminding Draco that he had been with someone before and there were kids to prove that.

"Yes I know, because you killed them all." Was Draco's cold reply, finally stepping up to his long lost rival. Unexpectedly, that earned a grin from Harry and he continued on with undressing the two of them.

That was how the night went for them. The first round was Draco softly coaching Harry, letting him keep full control. Two more practice rounds were held and Draco had to admit, despite himself, that he was enjoying the night with the man holding him at threat. The blatant, threatening company was something different from the usual absolute control Draco had over the ladies who stayed around him.

"We smell terrible." Draco commented dryly, disentangling himself from the damp sheets. Harry watched Draco move across the room, feet making soft noises against the plush carpet.

Minutes ticked away and the sound of running water filled the room and Harry laid back down, enjoying the moment alone. He had to agree with Draco. He did reek and perhaps a shower was one of the better ideas of the night. His eyes flickered over towards the bathroom door. Would Draco mind if he hopped in the shower with him? Part of him reasoned why not, considering they just had sex more than once. What if he tried something in the shower though? Should he bring the wand along? No, that wouldn't work well at all. Draco wasn't a bold hero.

Cowardice was the main trait that composed Draco's personality. An ounce of panic constricted Harry's lungs and he sprang up from the bed, fury scrawled across his face.

Was Draco sleeping with him a way to make it out of this situation alive? The thought almost drove Harry to storm into the bathroom and kill the sole survivor of the Malfoy clan where he stood. But Draco had enjoyed it, or looked like he had enjoyed it. Even if it was just to weasel his way out of death's grip he was still stuck with Harry.

After a few more arguments with himself Harry decided to keep Draco alive. He didn't have a lot in this world, and by a lot he had absolutely nothing in this world. Why not pick up the man who didn't have anything left either? They were somewhat alike, Harry had concluded. Survival was each man's greatest goal, so why couldn't the two help each other out along the way. Maybe somewhere in time Draco would eventually come to like Harry, like Harry seemed to like Draco.

With that decision in mind Harry padded over to the bathroom, joining Draco in the shower. Draco himself didn't seem the least bit surprised by this turn of events. Instead he just silently moved his body so the spray of hot water would hit Harry too.

"So I've made my decision," Harry started, eyes closed and hands working into his scalp where pink water ran down his body and the drain. A color which didn't go unnoticed by Draco. "I'm going to keep you alive and with me. Or me with you I guess, since we are at your home."

"Mhm." Draco grunted, facing away from the dark haired man, while washing his body. Suddenly there were arms around his waist and he felt Harry press his face into his back.

"It'd be best." The hands were gone just as fast as they arrived and Draco heard the glass door to the shower open so he turned around, confused by Harry's actions. Harry glanced at Draco over his shoulder as he spoke in a soft, calm voice. "Or I could just kill you." The smile on his face sent shivers up Draco's spine and he cleared his throat enough to answer.

"You staying here will be just fine." Lie. Or maybe it wasn't. Draco wasn't so sure. Harry's openness and willingness to get things done didn't go unrewarded in Draco's eyes, but the constant change in his personality was something to be wary of, and Draco didn't like to be wary of a person standing so close to him.

Harry left Draco to finish up his shower and made his way downstairs, only clad in his dirty pants that had been discarded early by the bed. It was another ten minutes before Draco joined him, coming to a halt on the bottom of the staircase at the sight before him.

Harry was dragging Crabbe's body across the tile floor, struggling somewhat because the dead man was quite the bulky thing. Noticing he wasn't alone anymore, not that he minded the company of the dead man; Harry straightened up for a moment, giving Draco a genuine puppy-love smile. Draco smirked at him, because he wasn't sure he could smile. It might have been the blood drying to Harry's bare chest or the fact that he was giving him a love-struck look over a dead body that had Draco ready to run in the opposite direction. Either way Draco knew for sure that his outcome of leaving his old rival wouldn't fare so well for him. So, like the coward he was, he stuck to Harry's side.

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><p>Please, please, please tell me how I did. I'm dying to know what people think of this one and I'm sure <strong>davros<strong> is as well. Drop either of us a line, because we would love feedback or compliments.

Oh and follow me on twitter: /#!/Nature_Calls


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